


Spiraling

by OewmO



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Child Neglect, Choppy writing is a stylistic choice, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Oma Kokichi Needs a Hug, Oma Kokichi-centric, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Game Saihara Shuichi, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Trans Male Character, Trans Oma Kokichi, Trans Shinguji Korekiyo, Unreliable Narrator, he’s an ass to his friends sometimes, he’s sad but he’s also a bitch, kokichi is not baby here, no beta we die like men, they put up w him anyways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24518962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OewmO/pseuds/OewmO
Summary: Kokichi’s life was pretty shitty if you asked him. His ability to cope was worse. A series of the different times Kokichi thought giving up was the best option and the times where he starts to learn how to fucking cope in less self destructive ways. Also really specific headcanons and a Shuichi redemption. Also you can decide if they end up in the killing game bc sometimes we just need a happy ending without looming dread.!! Also don’t read this if you’re feeling vulnerable to any thoughts right now! This may get graphic !!
Relationships: Harukawa Maki & Oma Kokichi, Iruma Miu & Oma Kokichi, Oma Kokichi & Shinguji Korekiyo, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 124





	1. Number 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings!  
> • suicide attempts  
> • self harm  
> • implied child neglect   
> • implied bullying  
> • unhealthy relationships

The first time it happened was the scariest. The most confusing. Terrifying. Regrettable, almost. Yes, the first time Kokichi Ouma attempted suicide was far from perfect. 

Fourth year of middle school. Fourteen years old. Still stuck in that awful fuku and people deadnaming and using the wrong pronouns and getting shoved and hit and berated and harassed. 

It wasn’t all bad. Of course not. He had friends for once. Two friends he’d met mid-year. They were kind and understanding. They were both people he could relate to and trust. Maki Harukawa understood the incessant bullying. Korekiyo Shinguji understood the loneliness and the dysphoria. 

But having friends couldn’t fix it all. It didn’t make it hurt less. Two friends didn’t make him feel better. Less lost. It didn’t make people hit softer. It didn’t make his parents come home earlier. 

Two people would care. Maybe. If he just disappeared one day. Didn’t show up to school. 

Kokichi found himself wondering morbid questions more and more. How many days would it take for anyone to even know he was dead? 

He could just imagine it. Dead in his locked bathroom upstairs. Day one, his parents come home, he doesn’t respond when they call out to announce they’re home. They shrug it off. Don’t check. The night goes by. He doesn’t show up to school. No one notices but two. They figure he skipped. Repeat. How many days could that go on? Maybe an eternity. Maybe just one. Kokichi would bet on three. 

Thoughts like that plagued the small boy constantly. What was stopping him? Why not? What did he have to lose? Life? That was practically worthless. Not even a cent. He was just a blip. He knew that. Sure, people enjoyed harassing him. His friends maybe liked being around him. Some of those people would miss those interactions. 

But that would pass. This was just middle school. No one thought about the people they knew in middle school. People would be upset he was dead and then get over it. And no one would ever think about him again. It wouldn’t cause any long term pain. 

Really, there was no point living, with that logic. Living caused more harm. People would be better off not having to deal with him. He would be better off too. 

Kokichi was just so tired. So unbearably tired. Everything was too much. He didn’t want to go through the motions of living anymore. Every day was the same. The routine hardly ever shifted. Why expect anything to change if it never did? Constantly repeating the same action and expecting a new outcome was clinical insanity. Kokichi wasn’t insane. There was no new outcome. 

It was a Thursday when he finally got the guts to do it. Only missing one day of school, so the school wouldn’t make a big deal out of multiple absences or anything. Saturday his parents would assume he was just holed up in his room. Sunday maybe they’d check. Three days, just like his original idea. 

Kokichi was tired, right? So why was he sobbing his eyes out a few minutes before giving himself the chance to finally rest? Shouldn’t he be filled with euphoria? Maybe that comes after he downs the pills. 

He’d sat himself down in the empty bathtub. He had two pill bottles at his side. What they were, he didn’t really know. Didn’t really care. Some long winded suicide note wasn’t Kokichi’s style, so he hadn’t written one. Just a short text. For Shinguji. Shin-chan. His closest friend. He at least deserved to get a goodbye. For being there for Kokichi despite how burdening and annoying the boy was. 

The text sent, he placed his phone face down on the ground. If it lit up with any sort of response, he didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to be scared out of it now. Not after he’d final committed to these intrusive thoughts. 

Everything was dealt with now, as far as he cared. Kokichi was probably forgetting things, but he had spiraled beyond rational set up. Now or never. Before he could back out, he had to act. 

Unscrewed caps. Cup filled with water. Dry swallowing was an unnecessary addition. Bottle tipped up. Multiple gulps. Dizziness. Confusion. Stomach roiling. Tiredness. Sleep.


	2. Number 2

The last time Kokichi had tried this had been in middle school, swallowing pills. That hadn’t ended well. Shin-chan had ended up being alarmed enough by the cryptic goodbye to check in and had managed to get Kokichi to the hospital in time. 

The second time was his first year of high school. A lot had changed. Some things were better. Both Kokichi and Shin-chan had been allowed the male uniforms. He’d cut his hair short, leaving a horrible, choppy mess of a style. He’d introduced himself by his preferred name. As far as anyone was concerned he was just the really gay kid. 

Which still wasn’t a good thing. Bullying had actually ended up escalating, reaching a fever pitch by the point he had snapped. Kokichi became one of the favorite targets for getting out frustrations. Books ruined. Papers stolen. Words written on desks. Death threats. Not to mention the hitting and shoving. 

He was a good target after all. Short and timid, no solid friend group, unlikely to fight back. Kokichi simply let it happen most of the time, knowing he wasn’t strong enough to fight back. 

It just gotten worse. And worse. And worse. It had been a huge deal, the day students reported seeing two figures up on the roof of the school. 

It had been one of the school’s star basketball players, the main terror to any and all typical targets. Kaito Momota. He wasn’t untouchable, but he was the closest it got. The other shadow was Kokichi Ouma, of course. A common victim of Momota’s whims. 

That day had been terrifying. Life was not threatened, as thought by witnesses. Momota never made any moves to shove Kokichi off the school. Of course not. He was a bitch, not a criminal. 

He was, however, encouraging Kokichi to do the work for him. 

—————

That day should have been unimportant, but it never left Kokichi’s head. The thoughts he’d become familiar with during middle school had resurfaced full force, swirling around his mind and making him frantic to act. 

What if he did what Momota wanted of him? Would that be so bad? If it was what people wanted, who was Kokichi to deny them? 

What was the fucking point? Everything always escalated. The devil worked hard, but the assistants of that damned school worked harder, clearly. 

Kokichi had decided to please the people for the first time in his life. As he stepped through the doors to the roof, he felt more empty than the first time. Less scared. And a new emotion to the mix. Spite. 

He was spiteful. He hoped when he hit the fucking ground they’d all watch, and they’d all realize they did this. He wanted them to be sad about it. Feel guilt. Part of him thought they would, it was human. The other part scolded himself for being so arrogant as to think people would think that much on it. 

By the time Kokichi had reached the fencing, the spite began to dissipate, slowly being smothered by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. 

What was he doing, letting other people be his motivation? No. He could at least take his final moments to be a little selfish. Be sad. Do this for himself. 

Reasons had not changed from the last time, because nothing changed in general. Kokichi’s life was always like that. Stagnant and still. 

As he climbed over the fencing, tears ran down his cheeks. He was always one to start crying at any intense emotion. He tried to shut his eyes and will away the tears, but the lack of sight made his center of gravity sway. His grip on the fence was forced to tighten as his body listed slightly to the left. 

-

The next five minutes were spent sitting atop the short railing, staring at the city, unable to will himself into doing anything just yet. 

"Hey." 

A voice called out into the quiet air. Kokichi immediately whipped his head around, startled by the sound. God dammit. 

A few feet away stood a boy looking to be around his age. Dark navy hair peaking out of a black hat that obscured his eyes. The boy was holding a ps vita. His expression read as nothing but bored. 

"Hey," He repeated, "Are you just gonna sit there?" 

Kokichi was surprised at his boldness, the first spike of anything other than hopelessness and spite he’d felt all day. What kind of question was that?

"If you’re just going to throw your life away," the odd boy continued, "Why not give it to me instead?"

The ridiculousness of the things this person was spouting astounded Kokichi. Who says that to someone who’s about to jump to their death? 

"What...?" Kokichi muttered, voice wavering from the tears that had continued to pour. 

"You heard me." The boy simply responded. What the hell? 

"I don’t- I don’t think I understand, though..." Kokichi picked one hand up from the railing, trying to ignore the shock of fear that ran through his body from the sudden loss of steadiness, to wipe the water from his eyes. 

"Well," The boy’s eyes seemed to track Kokichi’s movements carefully, "Come down and maybe you’ll find out."

And so he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I’ve had a bit of a lack of motivation to create for Danganronpa recently, and writing Shuichi is a bit difficult for me. it’s here now though!


	3. Number 3

It turned out what the boy had meant was just become his friend. His name was Shuichi Saihara, and he was a first year as well. He was apparently not very popular among the other students, like Kokichi. He wasn’t harassed in the same way though. The rumors were just as brutal, but no one ever seemed to lay a hand on him. He had this... negative energy to him. People seemed to recognize trying to shove him around like that wouldn’t go well. Shuichi was happy that way though. Rumors never bothered him. 

Kokichi could see why people didn’t like him. The boy was obsessive, talking about his interests- or more likely, hyperfixations- constantly, as if nothing else mattered. He wasn’t great at interacting with people either, always saying odd and unexpected things. He was not typical enough for the usual student. 

But Kokichi didn’t mind. Shuichi saw him. Talked to him. Paid attention to him and genuinely listened to him. The kind of care and attention Shuichi gave him was something so foreign and yet... so craved. He relished in it. 

After awhile, they ended up dating. It had been simple, almost painfully so. Shuichi had been talking about one of his favorite characters, some detective named Kyoko Kirigiri, saying something about how he’d so date her if she were real. He’d turned to Kokichi, asked if he’d ever dated anyone. He hadn’t. And casually, as if it weren’t the most life changing and unbelievable thing Kokichi would ever hear, Shuichi had just said, "Maybe we could date, then."

He had always been blunt. Kokichi had learned that by then, but it had still been disorienting. 

In the end, Kokichi had taken the boy up on his offer. 

Kokichi was just full of horrid choices. 

——————

Shuichi was a whirlwind of a person. So sweet and caring one minute, yet cold the next. He was manipulative. There was a point to everything he did. Life was a game to him he was determined to win. People were toys or pawns. They were to be played with or used. That was all. 

This fact was not an exception to the people he dated. 

Life was hard. People were cruel. Shuichi learned to get his way to survive. To think clinically. To discard the emotional responses. Being emotional, letting people in, letting his guard down- he didn’t have the luxury for them. They were not an option when you were to trying to survive. 

The circumstances of his childhood shaped him into the person he was. Sometimes people don’t break the cycle. They only continue it. He had to learn manipulation to survive when he was young and lived with the problems he did. 

He chose to use that skill now. He was no longer in that environment. And yet his behavior never changed. Shuichi tried not to think of that. He wasn’t expected to change. He didn’t really need to. 

———————

Kokichi loved Shuichi. He really did. He loved the way Shuichi smiled. The way he ran his hands through his hair. The gentle touches and reassurances and the warm feeling inside. 

He didn’t love the way Shuichi flirted with other people in front of him. Or the way he criticized Kokichi’s everything. Or the way he never responded to an "I love you." with an "I love you" back. 

Sometimes it was too much for Kokichi. Sometimes he just wanted to leave and never look back. Sometimes he wanted to stop sitting idly and taking the verbal attacks, the ignoring, the gaslighting. 

But he couldn’t. An equal amount of the time all he could think of was Shuichi’s good qualities. Excuses for his actions. The way he made him feel when he was nice. 

It was a back and forth he couldn’t control or understand. Everything was always so uncertain. Opinions were always switching, Shuichi’s expectations always changing. Sometimes, the way the blood ran down Kokichi’s pale skin was amusing to Shuichi. Other times it was an annoying over dramatic habit Kokichi needed to just get over already. Sometimes Kokichi needed to stop it. Sometimes Shuichi wanted to dig the blade in himself. 

Nothing was free from being criticized. Something was always wrong with Kokichi. He was always doing something annoying, saying something incorrect. Kokichi developed a frantic wish to be perfect. 

Shuichi was always free from being criticized. He didn’t say that mean thing yesterday. Kokichi was just remembering it wrong. He didn’t mean that comment that way. It wasn’t supposed to be thought of like that. What he said wasn’t really all that bad. It wasn’t a big deal. Kokichi developed an inability to determine if his perception was reality. 

It probably wasn’t. But that was okay. Shuichi could just remind him of what the reality was. 

——————

Kokichi couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t live with this anymore. It was too much. Nothing made sense. His head was always jumbled. His body always hurt. His heart was always being messed with. Living with this was an unreasonable demand. People had to understand that. 

One night, Kokichi was sitting with Shuichi on the couch in his house, watching the new episode of Danganronpa. It was a routine of theirs. Every Friday. Shuichi had said something cruel again. Suddenly, Kokichi decided he didn’t care anymore. None of it mattered anymore. It could all just go away. 

"I have to go to the bathroom," He mumbled as he stood up and began to move away. Shuichi nodded, but his eyes were still trained on the screen. Inside, Kokichi begged to be important enough to merit eye contact. But of course he wasn’t. 

He made his way to the bathroom rather slowly, locking the door once he’d reached it. For a moment Kokichi just stood there, leaning his back against the door, staring into space, no real thought in mind. 

Was he really going to do this? It felt like he was denying someone’s gift. Shuichi had stopped him from doing this, once upon a time. Months and months and months ago. It felt like this was an act of betrayal. An act of defiance against his steel grip of control he had on Kokichi’s heart. It felt as if Kokichi was taking what Shuichi had so generously given him and was denying it. Denying Shuichi. 

Yes. This is what he wanted. To break away from the control he lived in these past months. 

/This was a final refusal of Shuichi, and all that he did/ Kokichi thought as he pulled out a familiar looking razor. /This was him finally saying no. Finally taking back the control he had lost. Given away so thoughtlessly./ 

/It all made so much sense,/ Kokichi decided, as searing pain bit into him, splitting his skin apart, blood running slowly down his arm. It started with Kokichi wanting to kill himself, and it ultimately ended that way. Shuichi was no savior after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This one was fun to write! I’m afraid it’s a little exposition heavy. This whole story is actually derived from a much more cohesive story that’s been almost a year in development, so fitting in the necessary context to each snippet of his life is a little challenging. I’m aware this probably makes a million times more sense to those who do have the context. I apologize for that.


End file.
